#sticks and meetcutes
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and Wayhaven asks for Kira: I also want to know 15, 29, and, um, 30, bc I think I know all the rest already xD
15. Would they have reacted to Falk's flirting, if given the opportunity?
in a situation where she wasn't already deep in her feelings about one of our favorite vampires... probably. he is very pretty, if a little intense, and I'm starting to get a sense that she likes men with long hair
but as it stands, no. by the end of book 2, she's already very aware of how she feels, and has probably considered the L-word at least once on all the routes (with various levels of trepidation)
29. If they could have chosen a different profession, what would it be?
I have a half-formed au of Kira as an editor for the newspaper instead of a detective, which I think would suit her really well! it would be a job that would actually use her English degree, and would let her apply both her people skills and her deductive/knowledge skills. plus, it would let her be selectively antisocial instead of being so public-facing like her detective job!
the only downside being... Bobby. so much interacting with Bobby. but hey, at least she might be able to report him for sexual harassment if he keeps calling her "angel"
(the reason it's only a half-formed au is because I haven't figured out how Kira would actually get involved with all the Unit Bravo/Agency stuff. she wouldn't have any reason to cross paths with Murphy, and UB aren't good enough actors to convince Kira that a small town newspaper editor needs a team of four trained secret agents to protect her. the only way it would happen is if outside forces dragged her into it. or if only one team member went in undercover or something 🤔 hmmmm, that has potential)
30. Any funfacts about them you'd like to add?
hmmmm what fun facts do I have about Kira that I haven't already shared...
oh! I really want to give her another tattoo after the events of book 3, or between 3 and 4 depending on if there's any timeskip there. something unique to each romance but not necessarily like a romantic tattoo, if you know what I mean
the idea came to me because one of my favorite tattoo artists had some flash designs that involved crystals and I was like 👀
(not this exact design, but it was along the same line)
and now all I can think is Kira getting a crystal tattoo on Mason's route (probably on her sternum, right about where it would hang if it were on a necklace 👀)
I haven't figured out what she'd get on Nate's or Felix's route yet. they are very difficult to pin a solid idea on, but I'm working on it
I have a few possible thoughts for Adam's route, but I keep coming back to the idea (this is your fault, you put this in my head) of "fear makes us fighters" along the slope between her neck and shoulder, starting just under the scar from Murphy >:3 won't that be a fun thing for Adam to (eventually) find when he (eventually) gets his act together and (eventually) romances Kira the way she deserves
also not really a fact about her, but I'm considering retconning parts of Kira's backstory and making her American 😆 pretty sure that idea came about because I wrote a line in something recently where she mentioned her senior prom and then I had to go down a research rabbit hole to find out if that's even a thing outside the US
plus, once I look past Mishka's Britishness leaking through, Wayhaven does have deep-south-small-town vibes. somewhere near Savannah or Charleston, maybe 🤔
#kira kingston#wayhaven asks#that au's gonna stick around I can feel it#can you imagine the potential chaotic meetcute of having one of UB show up at her newspaper office like 'hi I'm your new assistant'?#like realistically it would only make sense if it was nate but also it would be so much funnier if it was *anyone else*#'this is adam our new assistant editor. he's 6'1" of solid muscle; supermodel hot; and clearly does NOT want to be here.'#'plus he keeps trying to boss me around. how is this my life'
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been shoving my beloveds into biblically accurate coffee shop AUs lately
#meetcute?? nah who's a beast on batch steaming#who isn't allowed on register#who hides in the supply closet for the majority of their shift#who's the starbucks vet that comes traumatized to a small coffee shop where you don't get yelled at by 7 year olds that want fraps#who's the bitch that sticks up their nose like uM ACTUALLY A MACCHIATO IS—#and who's the one who on the flip side pretends to only know starbucks lingo#to piss off uppity customers
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hello! would you consider writing modern avatar stuff? if ur cool w that can i request modern human neteyam relationship headcanons?
wait hold the phone yes i would actually ! wanted to hold off on posting this to include headcanons about what modern!neteyam would be like in a relationship, but i’m so eager to come back ! instead here’s some background about him & reader leading up to the relationship (part 2 pending if you guys want it) !
headcanons under the cut & for all intents + purposes, i picture college-neteyam ! additionally, in my brain, it’s canon that teyam as a human would be poc, hence the reference pictures i included below ! <3
so i definitely see neteyam having a very soft aesthetic, he’s such a sweetheart tbh
fs think that the two of you would have a meetcute in university & then end up being college sweethearts
his major is something specific like environmental engineering or child psychology ? he’s definitely really smart and excels in all of his classes !
which brings me to how the two of you would meet ? perhaps he’s taking an elective course in pottery and your major is in art with a concentration in three dimensional composition
the class is considered a lab, so the professor emails out the syllabus and students come and go as they please during class hours to work on their compositions.
halfway thru the sem, you and teyam stumble upon each other in the storage room between two classrooms, fetching different pieces that need to be glazed + fired.
“sorry, you can—”
“nah, you first—”
you laugh and neteyam’s smiling because WOW you’re really cute + had he known that someone as lovely as you was in the same section as him, he’d probably hang around the classroom more.
from that moment on, neteyam’s always lingering during the class’ meeting time, even if he’s already finished with his projects for the week because he wants to get to know you SO bad, but he’s way too shy.
(probably still canon that he’s phenomenal at literally everything, but i think it’d be so cute if he had 0 legitimate rizz bc he’s so used to kinda just bein’ him and pulling bc he’s a jack of all trades type of guy)
“what are you making?” you ask him one day and he snatches his airpod out of his ear so quickly even though he’s not listening to anything.
“ashtray” he answers quietly, a lil self-conscious because he’s come to find out that you’re absolutely amazing at sculpting and while you do this for your future, he does it is as a pastime / elective to graduate. “but like i don’t smoke or anything yknow, i just thought that i’d be a good thing to–”
you’re staring at him with the corner of your mouth quirked and he shuts up quickly, scratching the back of his neck nervously as he slumps on his stool.
“you should score using a crosshatch,” you tell him simply. “makes the pieces stick together better.”
he looks down at where he’d been scratching the damp clay laterally and your hands hover over his, head tilting to the side.
“can i?”
oh yeah, yeah! sure,” he splutters, leaning back a little to watch you work your magic.
can’t help but watch the way your fingers work over the clay, knuckles smudged with glaze and dust coating the silver of your rings.
he watches your hands, but soon he’s watching your face because you’re concentrated so hard on making sure you’re using your best technique for the little ashtray.
lo and behold, the pieces stick together so perfectly and smoothly, ready to be fired in the kiln, and neteyam’s grateful.
“thanks,” he sighs almost dreamily.
“yeah, of course. glad to help,” you tell him.
when you return to your own project, you slam back the rest of your melting drink and neteyam’s eyes are squinting the get a read on what it is you order.
you’re pleasantly surprised when you turn up to pottery the next session to work on a new project, and neteyam’s there with two coffees, one next to his wheel, another near yours.
“what’s this?” you hum, tying your apron with a messy bow.
“a thank you,” he says shyly. “for helping me last time.”
your eyes widen when you see your favorite; a chai with almondmilk, vanilla, and a shot of espresso.
“how’d you…”
“it’s what you were drinking…” he responds. “last week. i think.
“oh…” you trail off, cheeks hot because he noticed ???
“you don’t have to—”
“NO!” you yelp, a tad loud. some of the other students working on a few last minute projects peer at the two of you and teyam’s grinning like an idiot when he sees the way you tuck your hair behind your ear and reach for the drink. “this is good! it’s great. thank you so much. i actually missed my run this morning.”
“yeah, of course,” he sighs, rolling his lips together as the two of you kinda get off to a clunky start.
the silence between the two of you is a lil awkward, but you decide to break the ice since teyam’s technically played his hand and the ball’s in your court.
“are you an art major ?” you ask.
“uh, nah,” he'd say, rubbing his sweaty palms on the thighs of his baggy jeans because HE SHOWED UP TO CLASS 15 MINUTES EARLY and the agony of not knowing if you’d show up made him so nervous. “environmental engineering.”
your eyebrows raise ever so slightly, lips forming an ‘o’ bc wow that must mean he’s super smart.
“wow, that’s insane,” you say quietly. “what made you take pottery ?”
“only elective that didn’t make me wanna claw my eyes out,” he laughs nervously. “what about you ? what’s your major ?”
you seem to mull over your thoughts for a moment, obviously a little hesitant to answer.
“3d art...nothing special...” you trail off.
neteyam begins working with the slab of clay waiting for him in the center of the wheel, cheeks going hot because the words leave him before he can stop them.
“no, no. i think that’s really cool. art is a really challenging passion to have & i admire people willing to dive in full stop.”
the comment makes you smile, fingers pliant over the wet clay.
neteyam wants to DIE because he can’t read whether or not your smile is genuine or if you’re grimacing because he’s the biggest idiot ever.
he supposes it’s the former when you two are parting ways, signing the attendance log and you decide to bite the bullet and write your instagram handle on the bottom corner of the page and tear it off to hand to him.
he’s barely able to get a ‘thank you’ out before you’re racing out the door with your gifted coffee in hand.
you’re so giddy when you run out of the building and your phone pings in the front pocket of your satchel and you see that teyam.sully has followed you.
after that day, you two become really friendly !
neteyam frequently dms you about class, but eventually, he starts sending you vids and memes, saying that they made him think of you.
it becomes so obvious to both of your friend groups that you’re crushing on each other, but both of you are too painfully shy to say anything despite every green flag.
soon, looking forward to seeing each other during class turns into neteyam subtly asking you to hang out.
you make a comment about one of his hoodies and he mentions that he thrifted it.
“wait really??” you’re pausing your work to look at him. “i love thrifting!”
he smiles wide, word vomiting before he can stop himself.
“yeah? i know a couple of good places if you’re down.”
you say yes, DUH !
looking back at it, maybe that’s your first date because he picks you up from your dorm & bc you guys live in a fairly walkable city, you commute to the thrift and you’re SO giddy because the backs of your hands keep brushing every time some impatient pedestrian pushes by you guys on the narrow sidewalks.
you guys end up spending HOURS and teyam’s internally screaming because you find a shirt that has a peeling heart with the phrase ‘if lost return to wife’ and he happens upon the match to it a couple aisles down that says ‘i'm the wife’.
when you’re not looking, teyam buys the shirts and stuffs them in his canvas bag.
DUDE IS WHIPPED.
he wants you SO bad.
after the thrift, you guys get pizza, and after that, ice cream, and JESUS he doesn’t want the day to end because being with you is so easy.
over the course of the rest of the semester, the two of you make it a routine to hang out at least once a week and you’re always looking forward to it.
dates excursions include; trips to the museum to see recent exhibits, weekly pizza parlor dinners, study sessions at the 24 hr cafe a block from the school (in which he always walks you home after), park days where he reads books on environmental sustainability and you secretly draw portraits of him.
in these times, he learns that you want to become an art teacher, your favorite cereal is froot loops with the marshmallows, your all time show is amazing world of gumball.
almost cries laughing when he finds out that you have a secret pet turtle you hide in your dorm named franklin.
acknowledges that he’s falling, but falls even harder when the florist who owns the flower shop you two always pass hands you the prettiest little bundle of flowers and you spend the entire trek to the park, handing out individual stems to couples, children, and the elderly, telling them to have a beautiful day.
it all comes to a head near the end of the semester when he realizes that he can’t keep dancing around his feelings for you and the feelings he’s almost certain you have for him.
tells you to clear your schedule for the upcoming friday night and dresses a little nicer than usual when he picks you up.
brings you two to the planetarium in the city and, instead of watching the exhibit, he spends the entire time watching how you light up.
he knows in his gut that you could be it for him.
he’s loved getting to know you and spending so much time with you.
he’s so immersed in this feeling throughout the entire night.
probably wipes his sweaty palms over the thighs of his pants before shakily taking your hand as the diagram of the constellations shift.
can’t help but smile when your fingers squeeze his and you seem to shift closer to him as the narrator starts the presentation.
and he’s especially quiet after the exhibit, fingers still twined with yours as the two of you walk down the bustling sidewalks of the city center.
two of you probably stop by a dessert cafe and sit outside on a bench in the spring air, enjoying the buskers as you share a little cake.
you’re talking about home and how you’re excited to see your family again and he can’t help but imagine bringing you home to meet all his siblings and his parents because he knows that they’d absolutely love you and—
you’ve paused your speaking, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth and he’s SHORT CIRCUITING.
“shit, that was weird i’m so—”
his palm cups your jaw, thumb on your cheek, pad of his pinky and ring finger soft against your neck.
“can i?” he whispers.
TRIANGLE METHOD !!
he glances at one eye, gaze dropping to your lips before glancing at the other.
you already know what he’s referring to, could feel the romantic tension between the two of you since the beginning, but only become sure of it in the recent weeks.
”can you what?” you swallow.
he breathes a short laugh because the knowing smile that quirks your lips is a dead give away.
“can i kiss you?” he asks softly, absently setting your abandoned dessert somewhere behind him on the bench.
“yeah,” you’d nod, leaning into him. “please.”
before the two of you go your separate ways for summer holiday, he shows you the shirts he bought at the thrift store the first time around, but insists on keeping the shirt that says ‘i'm the wife’.
neng © 2023
#avatar nuggets ˘³˘#neteyam x reader#neteyam headcanons#neteyam fluff#neteyam#neteyam sully#avatar the way of water#atwow#avatar the movie
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DTIYS: Mickey + Puppy 🐶
For dear Harvey’s challenge!❤️ @mikhailoisbaby
I got inspired by Mickey and the dog and wondered how Ian would fit in to the whole things… and then a wrote a little au meetcute fic about it for good measure :-)
🔽🔽🔽
“The fuck is wrong with that thing?”
Ian glances over his shoulder and in doing so almost trips over a tree root sticking out of the ground.
Standing in front of him is a gorgeous, dark haired man, sporting blue eyes that basically pierce Ian’s fucking soul. He’s wearing various shades of black and the look of disgust curling up his sharp features tells Ian that the guy wouldn’t like it much if he was referred to as ‘slightly petite’.
But he is, though. Just Ian’s type.
“What’s w-wrong with what?” Ian sputters, at a loss for words as he takes it all in. Then he remembers he happens to be holding a shivering chihuahua wrapped in a pink puffer doggie vest and pink booties to match.
Goddamnit Tami.
“Oh? The chihuahua?” Ian chuckles once the pieces all click. “She belongs to my sister-in-law. I’m dog-sitting while she and my brother visit her family.”
The dark haired stranger snorts. “If you can call that a dog.” He reaches down to pat his own animal on the head, and Ian realizes he was so caught up with the man than he didn’t even notice the pit-bull by his side. “Looks like it’s one wrong move away from being lunch-meat.”
Ian shrugs. It’s a fair point.
“Yeaaaah, Penelope it’s one for picking fights.” The Chihuahua wriggles in the crook of his arm and yips at the mention of her name.
The man snorts. “Penelope? Jesus Christ, man.”
“Fitting right?” Ian smiles at the pitbull’s blissed our expression as the mystery man scratches below the chin. “What’s his name then?” He nods towards the larger dog. “Monster-mutt? Grave-digger? Maximum Destruction?”
The man laughs, a low rumble, and it’s the best thing Ian’s ever heard with his own two ears.
“First off, stop listing names of fuckin’ monster trucks.” He snorts. “And second, her name is Lia.”
Ian laughs along. “And you’re over here busting Penelope’s balls for having a cutesy name?”
The man shrugs. “She already had a name when I adopted her from the rescue shelter. Not gonna confuse her by re-naming her.”
“She’s a rescue dog, huh?” Everything Ian learns makes him want to know more about this guy. “Mind if I ask her owner’s name?” Ian can’t tell if he’s being smooth or coming across as a dumbass, but the man seems amused regardless.
“Me? Name’s Mickey.” He extends his hand to shake, and before Ian takes it he notices the knuckle tats- yet another factor to drive him wild. “How about you? Got a name?”
“Ian.” Ian shakes his hand firmly, and it feels like more than a mere formality. He swears he’s not imagining it- there’s a spark when they touch, and Ian realizes he can’t waste an opportunity to change his life for the better.
“You up to anything after this?” Ian asks, projecting all the confidence he can muster. “I know a bar about a block from here that’s dog-friendly…”
Mickey’s eyebrows shoot up, and for a moment Ian wonders if he’s reading the signals wrong. Then a grin appears on Mickey’s face.
“You askin’ me on a date, Ian?”
Ian’s face heats up, but he’s giddy, something he hasn’t felt in years. “Maybe. If that’s what you wanna call it. Kinda just want to get to know you better, Mickey.”
“You’re in luck then, cuz I love a good mid-day beer.” Mickey sets off down the park path, motioning for Ian to follow him. “And a drinking buddy wouldn’t be so bad, either.”
It takes Ian a moment to realize that this is Mickey’s way of saying ‘yes’, but once he does, he’s jogging to catch up, Penelope bouncing in the crook of his arm.
Something tells Ian he’s just made the best decision of his life.
#dtiys#gallavich#mickey milkovich#ian gallagher#gallavich fanart#ian and mickey#ian x mickey#shameless fanart#digital art#gallavich fic
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Omg so like you wouldn’t not believe the horror of a date I had. It fr sent me Mia for a sec😔But then I had the silliest meetcute with this guy so I think luck is on my side 🤭
But anyways I like love making my poookie girl flops traumatised and cope in the saddest ways possible.
So like I drew Percy if she did Leave the Ror universe for good( like she’s gone gone and they can’t bring her back ) . I kinda imagine this being her look during TOA
She’s cut her hair off ( hair contains memories and pookie wants to forget the crazy stuff ) but even if so a part of her still kinda clings to it..
And sure maybe the random odd streaks of colorful hair are odd but they’re very cute ! Pink, gold and green, and that’s just her usual gray streak isn’t it ? Yes maybe it has an almost blue tint to it now but it’s probably just the lighting ! And no that very dark strand that almost sticks out is nothing ! Just good old natural hair
From her always wearing a pearls, her tattoos for two certain folks or the fact she clings to a mysterious Wedding ring she will never truly talk about its origins too…
And well if she’s suddenly grown fond of clothes with floral patterns and or the fact that she has been suddenly peirced her ear in black studs…
Well she’s just good old Percy isn’t she ?
It’s not that odd that she’s off visiting gods from other pantheons…
She even dotes a bit on Apollo but it’s just her feeling bad for him being turned into a mortal for something he wasn’t to blame for right ? And yeah she’s having tea with Loki but that’s just a new friend…
And her visits to hades were she always seems a bit sad are never that deep…
Just good old Percy and a couple of odd quirks from all the stuff that’s happened to her so far nothing else 😇
okay but now imagine those pjo! gods realizing that she's only nice to them cuz she's lowkey seeing them as replacements for the ror! yans 😭
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Alphabetical in order of Islanders, then arranged in order of their release date.
| 🌷 Fluff | 😖 Angst | 🤡 Comedy | 🔥 NSFW | 📝List | 💩 Shitpost |
Amelia ♊
Amelia Gets Her Heart Ripped Out - Amelia is in the city visiting her sister when she has a meetcute for the ages with The Portuguese Squeeze in a coffee shop. It does not end the way she hopes. 💩
Andy 😺
OH PAW-LEASE - Cass is having a day. And the fact that the hot vet gets to witness every bit of it? Great. Just great. 🌷
Jamal 🛹
STAY - When the girl he was falling for gets dumped, Jamal is almost ready to walk out the door after her. 🌷
Lewie ⚽
Shoot Your Shot - Second chance love in a ... different take. 🌷
Ozzy 🕺
Let Me Be Your Woman - It’s professional. It’s strictly professional🔥
The Road Not Taken Looks Real Good Now - It was a choice he made, sticking by her side instead of stepping forward for someone else. And he couldn't let her down. 🔥
Multi 💅
Filthy - The boys in the Villa aren't enough for her. The boys in Casa ... might be. 🔥
#litg#litg writers room#writers room#litg fanfic#love island the game#litg double trouble#litg s6#litg dt#litg prompts#prompt#litg masterlist#masterlist
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STRAY KIDS X CLICHE MEETCUTES - BANG CHAN
word count: 1.1k
warnings: food mention
currently listening to: smiling all the way back home by tom odell
meet the other meetcutes!
you had been living in your new apartment building for a couple of weeks when you started getting a bunch of packages that you were certain you hadn’t ordered. the address on all of them was definitely yours, but they were all to some guy named bang chan, who you assumed must have been the last guy renting it out.
you called your landlord to see if he had his contact details, but he insisted that nobody called bang chan had lived in your apartment since he had bought it almost 10 years earlier.
so you allowed the packages to stack up, not knowing what to do with them and leaving them all untouched in the spare room that was full of all the boxes you were still yet to unpack.
you tried speaking to the doorman in your building as well, just in case he knew who the packages were supposed to be going to, though he was also certain he didn’t know of anybody called bang chan living in any of the apartments, but he wished you good luck on your search all the same.
none of your neighbours had said a word to you since you moved in, and, despite the polite smiles they offered you in the hallways, it was never enough to encourage you to actually go and ask if they were whoever these deliveries were for.
they were a small part of your life though, and after a while the unknown deliveries to your apartment stopped, you assumed bang chan had realised that he’d been entering his address wrong after everything he ordered failed to show up. that or he’d gotten fed up with how unreliable postal workers were, and had gone back to shopping the old-fashioned way.
you were getting settled on your sofa in your comfiest clothes, needing a break from the rough week you had had. you wanted to order some food, not having a clue what you might cook with the precisely zero ingredients that currently occupied your cupboards.
as you were scrolling through the various restaurants in your area, though, you heard somebody knocking on your door. sighing, you heaved yourself up off your sofa and went over to open it up.
the man on the other side of your door was holding a white plastic bag out to you in one hand, with a motorcycle helmet tucked under his other arm. you looked at him with a blank expression, trying to get an explanation of what he was supposed to be delivering.
‘i have an order here for bang chan?’ he eventually said, though it sounded more like a question as he began to grasp your confusion.
‘i don’t know a bang chan.. he definitely doesn’t live here…’
your voice trailed off as the delivery driver furrowed his brow and took his phone from his pocket, checking the information he had been given.
‘this is number 104, isn’t it?’
you nodded, looking up and down the corridor in the hope that somehow this situation would sort itself out with minimal effort from you. or that it wouldn’t and you’d be left with the amazing smelling chinese food, especially since that was exactly what you had been planning on ordering for yourself.
as you looked to your right, you saw the young guy who lived next door stick his head out of his door, scanning up and down in much the same way you were. he jumped when he saw you looking at him, and a flustered look took over his features as he began to realise what was going on.
‘hi, sorry…’ he said sheepishly, walking over to your door, ‘what’s the name on that order?’
his voice sounded almost physically pained, and you felt bad for how awkward he must have been feeling. you giggled a little, raising your eyebrows at him as a gesture that was meant to be comforting, but you were convinced must’ve come across as patronising.
the driver handed the bag over to bang chan and began to walk away as soon as he had confirmed his identity. he stayed standing somewhat strangely, clearly searching for a way to apologise for having inconvenienced you.
‘it’s not a big deal,’ you began, wanting to put him out of his misery as quickly as possible, ‘but i do actually have quite a lot of stuff of yours i think.’
you showed him into your apartment and left him standing in the entryway as you scurried to the spare room to retrieve the piles of packages that had been sitting there for almost a month.
his eyes had widened like saucers by the time you were leaving him to fetch a fourth stack of deliveries, picking up occasional boxes to check the address written on them.
‘i don’t know why you got all these,’ he told you when you had eventually brought everything through.
‘might have something to do with the fact that they all have my address on them?’
‘they do? no, they all say apartment no.104, that’s where i live.’
you suppressed another laugh as you opened the front door, gesturing to the brass ‘104’ nailed onto the wood. another self-conscious smile stretched across his lips before he opened his mouth to try and explain himself.
‘i… it’s.. i’ve only been living here a couple weeks.. i really thought mine was 104, it doesn’t have numbers like yours, i swear it doesn’t.’
his last frenzied promise must’ve been in response to the bemused chuckle that finally passed your lips at this, but he took your hand and led you out to in front of his door, showing you that there were, in fact, no numbers to be seen.
‘it’s really not a big deal, do you want a hand bringing your stuff over?’
his immediate reaction was in the affirmative, though it only took him about half a second to realise that he had left his apartment without his keys, and that the door had swung shut behind him, and that he was now locked out.
he hid his face in his hands, muttering something about how this is not the way to make a first impression, which you again brushed aside, insisting he could camp out in your apartment until the next morning when he’d be able to give your landlord a call. he offered a grateful smile, and trudged back to your apartment.
you ushered him over to the sofa, where he reluctantly sat down with the bag of chinese he had ordered next to him.
‘i actually always end up over-ordering, so we could definitely share this if you’d want to do that at all?’
you smiled at him from behind the counter of your kitchenette, nodding as you asked him what he’d like to drink.
#stray kids#skz#stray kids chan#skz chan#stray kids bang chan#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#bang chan fluff#bang chan imagines#bang chan scenarios#skz imagines#skz fluff#skz scenarios
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I finally got to see All of Us Strangers last night, and I went from HUH. OKAY?? to WT actual F over the course of a few hours and am now at a mixture of HUH. OKAY?? and WTF, I think.
I think what it comes down is: This wasn't the tragedy I expected and definitely not the one I wanted??
Like, I went into this knowing the few Harry/Adam scenes you get in gifs sets (I skipped the ones with Adam's parents because that seemed too spoilery! LOL) and the bits you get from official summaries -- like that the parents are dead/ghosts/what have you.
And then I got to the point in the movie at which I thought, well, is everyone a ghost/dead then? And then we got to the ending and that penultimate scene -- after we'd resolved the bit with the parents -- and it was like, surely not? They're surely not actually gonna go there? And then they did, and I didn't even know what to do with that, but it still wasn't unexpected -- not really? The unexpected bit was more the fact that it was actually the thing that happened. And then the gut punch I didn't even think about as an option was the reveal that not only had he been dead the whole time but no, the key moment and turning point was that first meeting, and I now have 6 pages of notes app notes that I wrote down on my journey home from the cinema, so I can discuss this with my friend once she's seen it and to make sense of my thoughts and feelings, and I still don't know what I'm supposed to do with this movie and this ending now! (Side note: Although writing this really helped?? lol)
Kudos to the entire cast, though! I love Andrew Scott's work, anyway, and I thought his performance felt beautifully stripped back and bare and honest. And I was really intrigued by Paul Mescal. I'd seen him (obv) in Normal People (which wasn't really my favourite show) and The Lost Daughter (I'd forgotten he was even in it until recently), but he didn't really stick with me in terms of his performance or the roles I'd seen him in. But this felt so different and like he threw himself so into that character that wasn't even in that many scenes, he really disappeared into the part for me. I also found that character so interesting, especially in retrospect, because while Harry represented a different generation (loved that bit, especially the discussion of queer vs. gay), his purpose in the narrative was also to be there for Adam. And then the bit at the end when we learn that Adam could've been there for him -- but also couldn't be. Or rather, Harry needed someone to be there for him, and he reached out (had the courage or maybe desperation to) and no one reached back.
That bit where Adam told him in the end that he hadn't been ready to or couldn't let him in like, obviously on the metaphorical level. But it also made me think about it at the level of well, this is a drunk stranger standing in front of your door saying weird things, and you're the only two people in the building. Like, is this a threat? Depends on which genre we're in. Which now reminds me of... Was it a tweet or a post on here or general writing advice? The bit where the characters don't know which genre they're in, so they're not necessarily acting in accordance with the genre guidelines. Like, is this a meetcute or is this person going to rob and/or murder you? Anyway...
I haven't really read any of the reviews yet or watched the actors talk about the movie, so I don't now how we all feel about the question of ghosts vs. hallucinations (vs. dreams vs. at some point I thought about whether this was all part the story/script Adam was writing). And I don't know if it actually matters what they were.
I knew there would be tragedy in this because of the few vague reactions I'd seen, but I expected it to be in the relationship with the parents and not the romance. That subversion! (Was it really one?) Although, the tragedy wasn't even necessarily in the romance but in the figure of Harry in the end? Or emotionally, that's where I was, anyway. The way Adam lost his parents but got to 'resolve' his conflict with them while Harry's parents were still alive but he might as well have been a ghost. Also, the bit where he was a ghost to his family but very visible and corporeal to Adam!
I just read a post that mentioned that different people would take different things from this movie, and that's always so interesting. It reminds me of how different people took different things from Poor Things, which I saw only a couple of weeks ago and ended up being really annoyed with.
I didn't cry at the ending. It happened so fast and was so expected but unexpected -- the ominous music in that scene and also in earlier scenes?? I didn't even have time to process this in order to have a reaction. I did tear up at the Christmas scene, though. The relationship between Adam and his parents, especially with his dad, felt really true and honest and recognisable, especially given the 80s context.
I even laughed a few times now that I think about it! And I think the entire theatre had a (maybe relieved) chuckle when Adam and his dad had muddled their way through the stereotype discussion and in the end agreed that no, Adam can indeed not throw for shit.
I think I'll probably need to see this again at some point. I read this article on how Disney (in line with the streamers in general) wants to stop selling physical media and how this might affect a DVD release, and oh, fuck that. Give us the DVD! I want to put this on my shelf!
#all of us strangers#like wtf was this movie??#I mean it was GOOD but also wtf#spoilers#and musings based on purely my reactions and thoughts since yesterday#the only review I've read was this morning and it wasn't really a review#paul mescal#andrew scott#random personal post#I have a lot of feelings about this and I'm still not entirely sure what they are
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Maybe it’s just me but marco being a pacifist healer goes hand in hand with “if provoked no god will save you from his wrath”
Idk sabo meeting this frumpy apothecary who lives outside a small village, and yeah he cute and he returns insults that would make a sailor blush but he’s just kinda boring. Sabo doesn’t get that tingling feeling, a muted glow but that’s it.
And yeah maybe he sticks around, visits the village more than strictly necessary because the guy is well. He’s just kinda easy to be around. It’s not a huge deal and yeah maybe sabo thinks about giving those lips a kiss on lonelier nights but no big deal.
Ofc when sabo gets involved with a dark guild that decides to use him for a culling (idk demon creation or something) he expected the crusty robes, the dried blood and the main curse user to have bad breathe
What sabo did not expect was the frumpy apothecary to show up. Bursting through the doors and plowing through the fuckers in seconds. Marco bloodied, cursing under his breath offers a hand to sabo. And sabos blood sings, for this ridiculous man who slowly takes out his glasses again and puts them back on.
They end up fucking on the altar
Bonus if sabo finds out that marco is an arcane magic user after they have sex
Wait why was Sabo used for culling and why did Marco show up? Other than that this is absolutely canon their meetcute!!! They had wild bloodied animal sex before dating they definitely eloped then got hitched and Sabo sent his estranged family the summary in magical fuck you format
Sabo finds out the moment Marco starts blooming feathers and magic starts sluicing out from his pores and he can fucking taste it thick heady across his tongue
Arcane is such a siren call to people like Sabo who doesnt care about propriety and whats morally right hes gonna get fucked and will fuck the last Phoenix
#also being bound to Marco amplifies Sabos inherent magic anyway tenfold#thwy like have a blood life pact bery romantic#MAS
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wait, you can’t say dads!mary/shannon meetcute and then not give us the meetcute. inquiring minds would like to know!!
"Are you Mary?"
Mary scrubs a hand across her brow, wiping away beads of sweat, and stands tall from where she'd been waist deep in an engine compartment. "That's me. What can I do you for?"
There's a low whistle and Mary pauses for a moment, deciding whether or not to preen. She knows she looks good, her back and arms wiry with muscle from years of wrestling with cars, but some asshole hitting on her at seven in the morning is that absolute last thing she needs.
She turns, then, with a sigh. "What do you want?"
The girl isn't even looking at her, and Mary re-evaluates the whole encounter. She's got her face buried in her phone, eyebrows pinched tight together, a look of concern readily apparent on her face.
"Hello? Anybody in there?"
The girl jumps, flushes bright red to her hairline. "Sorry, sorry, just got a text from my– my sister. Yeah. My sister. You're Mary, yeah?"
"Who's asking?"
She sticks out her hand and Mary takes it. The handshake is firmer than she'd expected, the girl's forearms corded with as much muscle as Mary's. "Shannon. The guy at the front desk really sang your praises about your skill with jeeps."
"Did he, now?"
"Said you're the best he's ever seen with them."
"He's not wrong," she admits, leaning back against the truck's bumper. "Though I haven't worked on any in a few months. You bring one in for me to look at?"
Shannon's smile is blindingly bright. "Well, here's the thing…"
//
"Want some more water?"
Mary shades her eyes with her hand and squints up at Shannon. "Do I want some more water," she echoes.
"Yeah." Shannon shakes her water bottle in demonstration, her tank top gapping open with the movement, revealing flashes of hard abs. Mary tears her eyes away, forces her gaze back to Shannon's face. "Hydration is paramount."
Mary grabs for a pebble and flings it at her. "Remind me again why I agreed to let you drag me out into the middle of nowhere?"
"Because it's your job?"
"I'm a mechanic, not a backcountry hiker."
"Well, today you're whatever I pay you to be," Shannon snaps back, eyes flashing angrily. She jerks her head towards the trail. "It's only a kilometre or two further."
Mary pushes herself to her feet with a groan and shoves Shannon's shoulder as she passes, swiping the water bottle from her hand on her way. "Better get moving, then."
//
The jeep's halfway down a gully, still in the shade of the cliff wall. Mary eyes it as they clamber down towards it. An older model, beaten up but quite clearly lovingly repaired. An enthusiast's jeep, not just a weekend warrior's. She eyes Shannon with renewed interest, but Shannon's gaze is elsewhere.
"Lilith?"
Mary startles once at the volume of Shannon's yell, a second time when a head pops up in the rear of the jeep.
"Back here, Shan," the kid calls. She's sixteen, maybe seventeen, and she eyes Mary with deep-seated distrust.
"Settle, Lilith, she's here to help. Where's Bea?"
Mary jumps a third time when a hand is raised beside Lilith and waves awkwardly.
"'m here, Shan." It's another young voice, high-pitched and reedy. Lilith catches the waving hand and kneels back out of sight.
"My sisters," Shannon says, as though that explains anything at all given how little alike she and Lilith look. She nods towards the hood of the jeep. "I think it might be something with the radiator, but I'm not sure."
"What–"
Shannon shakes her head, tugs on her backpack strap. "Keys should be in the ignition. I need to–" She gestures awkwardly towards the rear of the vehicle, and Mary nods her assent. At least the presence of two teenagers likely decreases the chance she's going to end up murdered, right?
//
"You were right about it being the radiator," Mary says, poking her head into the back of the jeep.
"Huh?" Shannon's head snaps around towards her from where she's kneeling beside a prone teenager. Lilith's got the girl – Bea? – Bea's head in her lap, and Shannon's rucked her shirt up to reveal her stomach. There's a massive bruise spanning her side, centred on imprints of waist and chest seatbelts. Shannon strokes Bea's cheek and nods to Lilith. "I've just gotta–"
"Go wheel," Bea says, her voice hazy. Lilith snorts out a laugh, and when Shannon jumps down from the back of the jeep her face is bright red.
"Wheel?" Mary asks, but Shannon shakes her head.
"Ignore her, she's a bit out of it. You said it was the radiator?"
"Leak in the coolant hose. I patched it with duct tape. Should be enough to get it back to the shop to replace the hose." Mary glances down the gully. "Not to judge or anything, but did you really go off-roading without knowing that emergency fix?"
Shannon's face manages to turn even more red, if that's possible. "No, I know that," she says, pulling off her ballcap and running a hand through her hair. "I just– I wasn't thinking clearly." She gestures towards the rear of the jeep. "I think of Lilith as more capable than she actually is sometimes and I let her drive because she's got her learner's permit so it's fine, right, only obviously it wouldn't be but I get carried away with them sometimes because they're just, like, so adult about so many things and–"
"Hey," Mary says, laying a hand on Shannon's forearm, "hey, breathe."
Shannon presses a hand to her chest and breathes deeply, once, twice, a third time. "I'm sorry I jumped down your throat on the way up," she says, her voice ragged. "I really appreciate you coming out here."
"Well, my thought process was 'if I die, I die, and I'm bored anyways'," Mary admits, shoving her hands in her pockets and shrugging.
Shannon peers up at her. "Oh, God, this was a really strange request, wasn't it. I didn't think that through at all. Oh, fuck me."
"Well, yeah, the five klick hike back to town when you absolutely have cell service out here kinda clued me in to that." Mary chuckles at the stricken look on Shannon's face. "It happens, alright? Your sister got hurt, it's normal to panic about that. But I've patched the hose and topped up the coolant to replace the leakage and we're gonna get her to the hospital to get her ribs looked at and then you're gonna pay me more than it's worth to replace the hose."
"And you're gonna get her phone number," Bea's slurred voice calls from the back of the jeep.
Shannon turns scarlet, and Mary cocks an eyebrow, unable to tamp down a smug grin. "Is that so?"
"And take her on a date," Bea adds, almost as an afterthought.
Shannon buries her face in her hands and sighs.
#fic: dads#mary x shannon#ask#anon#ty for the prompt!#they're all fucking disasters#shannon is trying so hard to be what her kid sisters need but then her panic response of 'get help' overwhelms everything#sisters in the 'these are my baby ducklings now' kinda way#shorthand to avoid having to explain Tragic Backstories#'they're my sisters but they're not each other's sisters'#mary: I don't even wanna ask#myfic#mywn
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so i was thinking more about the crowley/aziraphale pacific rim AU and i couldn't figure a way to stick them right in the middle of the action but i think that's okay because one of the best things about crowley and aziraphale is their "just some person"-ness anyway
i ended up with "if they just had a meetcute in the pacific rim universe what would that be like?" which. is not quite what i was imagining initially. but nevertheless? now this exists in my brain so y'all can be privy to this exceedingly handwavey scifi fluff
like, i don’t think aziraphale would ever step foot in a jaeger (can you imagine? i can't). but i think he could, in this AU, still own a bookshop, and have somewhat of a committed interest in cryptozoology. such that a.z. fell & co becomes sort of regionally renowned for its extensive cryptozoology section even before the kaiju wars. at first it's like a cult landmark but once the attacks begin it becomes something of a hotspot for information (much to aziraphale's dismay, because he still hates selling books)
crowley... i’m thinking. maybe he starts out in school studying astronomy. he's stoked about earthlike exoplanets. he gets to studying the conditions that permit life on earth, which leads him down the separate avenue of horticulture. he gets a rad little greenhouse going; propagating plants and all that.
(i don't know why plant nerd!crowley is just an natural arrow right to kaiju nerd!crowley to me but… something about it just makes sense in my brain. i mean, you know if humanity ever went off into space, crowley'd be the one responsible for preserving the seed library. but i digress.) the kaiju wars start, and crowley has a lightbulb moment, like, ohhh. they’re… fascinating? massive bloody efficient death machines, sure, but they’re cool, in the same way that carnivorous pitcher plants are cool. he's like, what questions can i ask about them??? answer: ask all the questions. and this leads him to aziraphale’s bookshop, of course
aziraphale’s got a sign up at this point, pointing out the cryptozoology section. he has a ton of people coming in asking about the topic, so he figured he’d make it easier for them to find, and subsequently be bothered less.
but no one else is as much of a regular. aziraphale learns, after the first few times he comes in, that his name is crowley—anthony crowley. it's because he asks if aziraphale can order increasingly specific books in, and he writes his name and phone number on a catalogue card so that he can call him when the books come in (...and if it's a ploy to give aziraphale his info… who's going to know?). aziraphale, for his part, wonders why crowley doesn't just use his university library, because anthony crowley is a graduate student. he's tall and rakish and bespectacled, with fiery hair and a serpent tattoo coiled around his wrist (aziraphale has no idea how far it goes after it disappears up his jacket sleeve, but the head of the serpent peeks out of his shirt collar sometimes, so aziraphale assumes it goes across his shoulder). he saunters about like he hasn't got a solid bone in his body. he has, apparently, a near-encyclopedic knowledge of the cosmos (which aziraphale is impressed by though he tries to be prim and reserved about it). occasionally, aziraphale hears crowley humming "flash" or "seven seas of rhye" from across the shop, and smiles to himself.
aziraphale doesn't know if crowley falls outside of his usual type, or if he's simply never come across anyone quite like him before, but he's finding himself becoming oddly attached. he tells his friend muriel about it over tea. "aziraphale," they tell him, "i think from what i've heard you're experiencing what they call a crush." (air quotes included.) "don't be ridiculous," aziraphale says. "i don't get crushes." (it's true, he's never had what one might traditionally call a crush. but so what? maybe he has one now)
crowley camps out in the stacks and writes notebooks full of spidery notes. once, he stays until past closing time, accidentally, and the next day he brings aziraphale a cup of english breakfast from the coffeeshop nearby, and a little pot of african violets as an apology. with a slightly sheepish grin, he says he grew the flowers himself. there's a little care card stuck into the soil, with more of his handwriting on it.
the violets bloom beautifully on the windowsill next to aziraphale's desk.
fast forward some indeterminate amount of time and now they actually spend time together.
maybe a kaiju came up the thames (i mean... listen. it could happen! if only just because it would be logistically fucking unhinged and the imagery of a kaiju rearing up out of the river while people are sitting on the london eye in the background is kind of great.) anyway, aziraphale had to impromptu barricade his bookshop and crowley was there too so they’re just. shut up in there with a handful of other customers until it’s safe to come out again. someone’s watching the live news coverage on their phone. crowley and aziraphale are sitting on the floor together between bookcases. a bit apart from everyone else, and passing crowley’s little flask of whisky back and forth. for fortitude, or whatever (fortitude against the kaiju threat, and not because they’re sitting next to someone they’re pining for, of course)
“y’ever thought about joining up?” crowley asks him eventually. aziraphale gives him a blank look. “you know.” there’s a metallic crash outside as if to prove crowley’s point. “the defense corps.”
“oh, heavens no. me, in a jaeger?”
“yeah—i suppose—nah, couldn’t see you doing it, now i think of it.”
“most certainly not.” the mouth of the flask is warm from crowley’s lips or maybe aziraphale’s imagining it. in any case he passes it back quickly. “you?”
“well… i’ve thought of it, sure. ‘course, it’d be k-science for me.”
“naturally.”
“oi! i could pilot a jaeger. if i wanted.” a pause. “what!”
“it’s only… well, it’d be a bit too slinky, wouldn’t it, with you piloting.”
“slinky!” mock indignation, giving way to curiosity, and circling back around to delight. “mister fell! have you been looking at my h—”
aziraphale steamrolls over the end of that sentence loudly. “it takes two, anyway, darling, as you well know. who would be your co-pilot?”
he resolutely doesn't contemplate crowley drifting with someone who isn't him. in this hypothetical scenario, which is never going to actually happen—
“you. obviously.”
(was it obvious?)
“but i would never—”
“yes, yeah, sure, mm-hmm. we’ve established that, aziraphale. i just figured we'd probably be... y'know. right?" they stare at each other for a moment before crowley barrels on. "anyway. just being silly, me. doesn't matter."
and why does crowley sound so tetchy and maudlin all of a sudden?
(narrator voice: crowley sounded tetchy because he had just been about to confess his feelings to aziraphale in the most roundabout way possible.)
anyway
maybe after this event crowley doesn't show his face in the bookshop again. aziraphale tries calling his number but his line's been disconnected. tries his level best not to pine for him and the next he hears of him is like, five years later when he's reading the newspaper one morning and sees an article on the oceanic monitoring operations going on in the pitcairn islands, and there's a photo of crowley grinning, dressed in a black turtleneck with the k-science logo on the chest, and he's quoted in the article, saying something about how he'd never have joined k-science if it hadn't been for a conversation he'd had with someone very important to him in a bookshop thousands of miles away what feels like a lifetime ago...
so aziraphale (madlad that he is, in any universe) is all, THIS. IS A SIGN and books himself a flight that very day
okay, and imagine their faces when aziraphale shows up on premises and crowley is all WHAT'RE YOU DOING HERE (basically—picture his disbelieving grin, the one he wears every time aziraphale surprises him) and aziraphale is all "well, i saw you in the morning paper, didn't i?" and he's, staring at crowley, who's got his sleeves rolled up and gloves on and he's up to his forearms in radioactive-looking bioluminescent goo, and he's all "hang on, let me get these gloves off, this stuff'll eat straight through your clothes and i remember how much you love that waistcoat—" "you remember?" "...'course i remember."
*insert soppy looks here*
anyway, then they go on a dinner date, sushi and chilled sake, and crowley rambles on at aziraphale about kaiju gut microbiomes and how they harness radioactive phytoplankton to power their digestive system through nuclear fission (or whatever), and aziraphale tries very hard to focus more on his food than on crowley's wildly gesticulating hands
i could go on but essentially it's just... pining and fluff. fluff and pining. and enormous sea monsters from another dimension of course
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Here’s a take on dark alley meetcute from the Agent’s perspective because I’m indecisive! (Man I should really try to finish more projects)
The Agent is in a spot of trouble.
This isn’t their first mission, no, but they are still very new to the job (at least, according to their supervisors they are), and as such they make… mistakes.
One of those mistakes is currently the reason they’re half sprinting, half limping down a badly lit street in the middle of some housing sector of a city, pursued by goons.
There’d been shots fired and - as far as they can tell - they’d gotten hit twice, both only managing to graze them (they think. They haven’t gotten the time to properly check, and the adrenaline drowns out most of the pain).
One to their left leg, the other to their abdomen, just barely slicing through their side instead of their insides. As it turns out, trying to keep pressure on a leg wound while running on it is a little more difficult than one might have expected.
Despite the setback, the initial burst of panic and adrenaline had earned them some distance, and now the goons were out of view - though still audible, raised voices and clacking shoes echoing down the empty street.
They won’t be able to keep going like this forever, but they can’t slow down, either.
A third option manifests in the form of their eyes snagging on a darkened alleyway between two apartment buildings, decorated with various trash, and (most importantly) a large dumpster.
They duck into the alley without thinking too hard about it, almost skidding to a stop as their leg finally gives out and they tumble to the ground, barely managing to curl up next to the dumpster before the raised voices of the goons become much, much closer than before.
They feel their breath hitch, despite the near desperate heaving their lungs want to do to regain the oxygen lost in that little marathon.
As the footsteps come closer, they force their breathing to slow, pressing a hand over their face in the hopes that that would help - remembering not to use the hand smeared with blood at the last second.
Just when the voices draw close enough to be comprehensible (“Where the hell did they go!? …check the alley.”) and their heart rate spikes, a door into the alley on the other side of the dumpster they’re sheltering behind opens, and bright light from inside pours out, causing them to squeeze their eyes shut.
Someone shuffles out - hidden from view by the dumpster - and there’s a brief pause as the person apparently notices the goon standing at the mouth of the alley.
For a second, they worry they’re gonna have to listen to some civilian getting murdered, but then the other goon’s voice comes calling from further away and the closer one gives chase.
“…well, that was weird.”
The person mutters, and the Agent can feel their body start throbbing with pain as the adrenaline fades, letting their head droop as they attempt to catch their breath.
The sound of shuffling footsteps suddenly breaks the relative silence as the civilian steps out into the alley in full, and opens the dumpster whilst humming something under his breath.
The Agent freezes, tempted to attempt to hold their breath for a second before their lungs vigorously inform them that that would be an awful plan. Instead, they force it to slow into a somewhat more even pace, not daring to move a muscle as they listen to the civilian presumably toss his garbage into the dumpster.
Just as he seems about ready to go back inside so they can flee to safety, the humming abruptly stops, and they hear gravel scrape under his slippers as he leans in closer to the dumpster, staring at - oh, damn it, their stupid leg, sticking out just slightly into view.
They hear him hold his breath as he cautiously steps around the corner of the dumpster. Or, at least, they assume - they haven’t moved a muscle just yet, stuck rigid and frozen with panic, head tilted down.
They must look a sight to him, curled up into a corner next to a dumpster, they think. And what a sight they must be, one leg curled up to their chest and the other splayed out, slowly dripping blood onto the ground, and one arm clutched tight around their abdomen.
Probably streaked with grime and dust, too, and with their hat lost who-knows-where their hair sticks up in all directions.
A sudden touch to their good leg makes them flinch back, wincing when their head smacks against the wall, and the stranger reels back with his hands splayed out, looking surprised.
“Woah there! Calm down!”
#my art!#purples art!#fanfic!#ieytd#ieytd2#John juniper#agent Phoenix#sorry for the sudden amount of posts btw
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Fic Showcase Game
Thanks for the tag @river9noble!💕💜💜❤️
Rules: Go to your published works on AO3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of—for whatever reason.
Oh boy~
-> First Fic Published: Ice to Meet You
Maribat, Damian Wayne x Marinette Dupain-Cheng • A short and sweet meetcute inspired by my parents' story.
-> Last Fic Published: There Is Just No Stopping This Thing Called Love
(I'm not counting my half-a-fic JaySteph dating alphabet headcanons)
DC, Jason Todd x Stephanie Brown • It's a Gotham by Gaslight AU I wrote in about two days (JaySteph really gets my fingers flying across the keys😆) that I'm pretty proud of. I did a lot more research than I thought I would because I'm a perfectionist who wanted historical accuracy.
-> Fic I Wrote for a Ship/Fandom Once: Hard Right to Greece
MLB, Luka Couffaine x Marinette Dupain-Cheng • This was a co-write, but so far it's my only Lukanette/MLB-only work. It was my first collab fic and I really enjoyed the process. My co-authors (who I'm sure did most of the writing) were lovely and it was a great experience overall. (Check out the lukanette server hosted by @/quickspinner). Road trip plus mutual pining? What's not to like??
-> Favourite Fic Written In My Largest Fandom: toss-up between Burned my Wings and The Best Bat(?)
DC, Gen • Can you tell I like hurting my already traumatized blorbo? I enjoy exploring character's reactions to what Jason has been through, because we all know DC is a coward.
-> Fic I Wish More People Read: Rival Mob Boss Jasonette Series
Maribat, Jason Todd x Marinette Dupain-Cheng • I don't go into my stats expecting large numbers so I don't get the no-dopamine crash. That said, I did think the series would be more popular.
-> Fic I Most Agonized Over: Hmmmmm maybe The Very First Night?
Maribat, Jason Todd x Marinette Dupain-Cheng • The agonizing is usually over getting the motivation to write than struggling what to write. I tried a new writing style in it (non-linear narration), so I was unsure how it would turn out. I'm happy with the end result, though.
-> Fic Sprung Forth Fully Formed With No Effort: Long Live all the Magic We Made
Maribat, Jason Todd x Marinette Dupain-Cheng • I had been plotting a bit more of this fic every tike I listened to Long Live, so by the time I sat down to write it, it only took 2 or 3 days.
-> Fic I'm Proudest Of: Invisible String or Stars Around My Scars
IS: Maribat, Damian Wayne x Marinette Dupain-Cheng • My first songfic and probably my longest fic (only about half is posted; the epilogue is as long as the main work😆). I got some absolutely lively comments that I will forever cherish, which makes me proud that people liked what I wrote so much.
SAYS: Maribat, Jason Todd x Marinette Dupain-Cheng • This was originally a short 2k fic I wrote to get out of my head. A couple years later, I dusted it off and polished it up, and then the ideas wouldn't stop flowing (I still have several outtakes and bonus scenes to write & post). I'm proud of myself for sticking to it (it was my longest fic on ao3 for a while) and not rushing it when the dopamine high faded. I think it's a testament to my improved writing skills and it's special to me, as it was my first long fic for the Maribat Fandom that I posted. I also became close to the absolute love of my life @sarcasticbambi, who was my beta for the fic and gave me some lovely, absolutely heartwarming and forever-remembering-worthy compliments that really boosted my confidence in my writing.
No-pressure tagging @boldlyanxious @velveteenshadow @wildbookcat @the-coffee-fandom and anyone who wants to play, consider yourself tagged!💜💜
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my first azris fanfic ehehe
feels like it was just hours ago i told @iftheshoef1tz about this idea (because it was literally hours ago and i just wanted to contribute something to romance week. i know it's not technically meetcute day, but it's whatever day so i can do what i want). anyways, have the unedited first chapter of my modern azris agegap au snippet bundle - that's a lot of words. i'll shut up now. enjoy.
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Azriel is already in pain when he wakes up, which is usually a bad omen. His knee feels tender, and he hasn’t even gotten out of bed yet. It doesn’t bode well for the day he has planned, and he wonders if he should just call Cassian and cancel their hike for today.
With a sigh he forces himself to throw the warm blanket to the side and at least get his feet on the ground. One small step towards starting this day. A coffee would be nice, he thinks, but Nesta has been on his ass to limit his consumption, which is ironic because his sister-in-law drinks much more coffee than he ever has, but if he has one now he won’t allow himself to have one at Cassian’s house later, and he definitely needs that one to make it through the afternoon and the evening without prematurely passing out on his couch.
With nothing else to do, Azriel stands and slowly makes his way to the kitchen, and yes, the knee is definitely going to cause problems. Once again he curses himself for deciding to walk home in the dark after getting shitfaced at Cassian’s and Nesta’s party, for not seeing that dumb root sticking from the ground and for getting his foot stuck under it. Most of all for having gotten to an age where the pain in his joints doesn’t disappear after a maximum of two days. He knows that he’s not twenty-five anymore, but it’s been more than a month since the party, and he can still feel it. Maybe someone should just shoot him, like a lame horse.
Standing in the kitchen he stares at the coffee pot on the stove, a fancy little espresso maker Rhys got him for his fifty-third birthday, along with a trip to Italy. He realises he hasn’t left these woods since that trip, except for his weekly trip to get groceries at the town’s supermarket, and visiting Rhys and Cassian at their homes located around that same forest he lives in. He’s been moving around, contained to that twenty-five mile radius, for two years.
On second thought, maybe he will have a coffee. While he reaches for the espresso box - another expensive gift from his friends - and both his knee and his shoulder pop this time, he remembers that he went to Greece for Feyre and Rhys’ wedding. That was last year, so he can still count that towards his “recently been active” list. Hanging out with family, travelling overseas. Suck on that, Cassian, he thinks. I’m going places, I’m not rotting away all alone in my cabin. I don’t need to “get out more”. I don’t need to “meet new people”. I’m perfectly fine where I am.
Granted, he is alone right now - he takes his eyes off the stove to look towards the window where Mr. Goggles used to sit. The cat had already been old - and named, as Az always feels the need to stress - when Feyre had given him into Azriel’s care because there was no space for him in Rhysand’s house. It wasn’t that they didn’t have the room - Rhysand’s mansion has more rooms than the two of them can possibly know what to do with - Rhys is just very allergic to cats. So Az had taken the grumpy old furball in and they had lived together for nearly three years. Now Mr. Goggles sleeps in the earth below his favourite window sill, under a small bush of white pansies that Elain says remind her of the fur pattern on his face. Azriel wonders what flowers she’ll put on his grave when he dies. Will they bury him next to the window behind his favourite armchair too? He wants to be cremated, but he’d be fine with a cardboard urn like Mr. Goggles’ casket.
The whistling and clattering of the espresso maker pulls him out of his thoughts. It’s not all that bad. Sure, maybe retiring so early was a mistake - he doesn’t need the money, he just misses having something to do - but when Cassian and Rhys left he hadn’t felt like being the only one to stay behind. Maybe he underestimated just how empty his cabin would feel once he spent more than just the nights and weekends there, with his brothers spending the majority of their time with their wives, ten miles through the forest in the homes they’d built for themselves. He’s not lonely, he doesn’t need or want anyone else in his house, or his life for that matter. The area feels crowded enough with just Old Man Schmidt down the street. Maybe he’ll get another cat. Nesta has mentioned occasionally seeing one roaming about where her office is.
While he sips his coffee he’s still debating whether to call the hike off - his body tells him yes but his brain says if he mentions it to Cassian he’ll come to his house to inspect the old injury himself, and he hasn’t even told him he fell in the first place, and he will undoubtedly notice the pathetic state of Azriel’s house. Everything is reasonably tidy, but it’s painfully obvious no other human being has stepped through the door in months, maybe even a year. The last time he had people over was for Mr. Goggles’ funeral, for Christ’s sake. Azriel shifts his weight onto the damaged knee and immediately regrets it. He bites back a pained groan, letting his head fall back against the cabinet.
Cass would tell him to see a physician. Az hates going to the doctor, and not only for the usual reasons - he hadn’t gotten the memo that it was a bad idea to sleep with, have a messy entanglement and then ditch the only medical professional for nearly 200 miles. He’s not gotten a check-up in almost four years. Neither of his brothers knows that though, and he would rather die than tell them, both about the problem and the reason behind it. Fifty-five feels like the worst age to come out to your life-long best friends.
Summer is already fading, but the sun is still warm on Azriel’s skin. He tilts his face up to the sky as he walks, before he quickly remembers he doesn’t want to sustain another injury and he concentrates on the dirt road under his feet again. He grits his teeth through the strain on his leg and keeps walking.
The quickest path to Cassian’s house leads him from the treeline where his cabin is straight through the clearing past Old Man Schmidt’s property and through the woods. He’s walked this path a thousand times, but something is off today. Old Man Schmidt never has guests over, but this morning there’s a new car in his driveway. When Azriel crosses the street he realises it’s not just the new car, there’s a moving van as well, and parts of the garden are ripped open from construction, old furniture and materials, tools and workers all over the lawn. Az has always been curious, and he’s a little perturbed that he hasn’t noticed what has apparently been going on for a few days already. Has he really been that disconnected from his surroundings? He wanders off the path and up to the fence, leaning against the gate. He tells himself it looks at least a little cool but really he’s just trying to take the weight off his knee. He doesn’t recognise the licence plate on the car, and he tries to look around for Schmidt but he’s nowhere to be found. The last time they spoke he hadn’t mentioned anything about wanting to sell his house. Then again, the last time they spoke was six months ago. Maybe things have changed.
“Can I help you?” Azriel turns his head so fast it almost gives him whiplash, his carefully combed hair immediately falling into his face, obstructing his view. He was so immersed in his snooping that he hadn't noticed the man stepping up to the fence.
“Um, yeah. I’m looking for Schmidt? Boris Schmidt, he lives here,” he manages to say, buying himself a minimal amount of valuable time as he sizes the other man up. He seems to be in his late twenties or early thirties, tall and muscular with silky short hair that is so red Azriel wonders if it’s dyed. None of Feyre’s attempts to colour her hair have turned out this perfect though, so he thinks it just might be real, or done by a very, very pricey stylist. Everything about the stranger screams expensive, from his hair to his crisp white shirt and leather boots. He even smells like it, and Azriel is suddenly very aware that out of all the things he has on, only the shirt and the underwear have been washed in the last three days, and he can’t even remember the last time he put on cologne.
“Mr. Schmidt doesn’t live here anymore. Hasn’t for over a month,” the stranger explains, and his voice is deep and smooth, feels like it wraps itself around Azriel, sliding through his ears and into his brain, muddling his thoughts.
“Oh,” is all he can get out. There’s a short pause where the stranger only stares at Az with his amber eyes, waiting for him to say something more.
Then he asks “Are you the neighbour?”
“Yes.” He clears his throat. “Yes I am. Are you moving in?” The stranger smiles, and good Lord above he is beautiful. Azriel swallows hard around the feeling suddenly bubbling up in his chest, through his throat and spilling into his mouth. He is too old to be reacting like this over a pretty boy.
“I am. Eris Vanserra,” the stranger introduces himself, reaching his hand over the gate. Azriel shakes it.
“Azriel,” he answers, then quickly adds, “Azriel Kantor.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” Azriel nearly wishes Eris would stop talking because it is incredibly hard for him to concentrate on coming up with answers when his hand is burning where the man’s skin has touched his, and this is getting ridiculous. Just because he hasn’t gotten laid in one and a half years?
“The pleasure’s all mine,” he says, and means it for once. “I, uh, I live right down there. Can’t miss it.” He vaguely gestures behind himself with the burned hand, trying to shake that feeling off.
“Not like there’s many other houses around,” Eris replies smoothly, a faint smirk still on his lips, and Azriel has to pinch his arm to stop himself from staring.
“Yes. Only me. But my friends live south from here right through the forest. I’m actually going to visit them-” He trails off, and unfortunately the other man picks it up right where he left it.
“Azriel,” he says, embarrassingly breathless from forcing out that one word. Way too late he realises that maybe it was intentional, maybe Eris would prefer not calling him by his first name, and not having Azriel call him by his in turn. He’s being awfully presumptuous. But Vanserra only hesitates for a moment before giving him another smile.
“Well, I don’t want to keep you." Eris is already stepping away from the fence. "I guess I’ll see you around, Mr. Kantor.”
“Azriel,” he repeats, slowly, savouring every letter. “Lovely to make your acquaintance.” He lets a few seconds pass by silently where neither of them move. Then he turns and leaves him standing at the gate, glued to the spot like an idiot.
“You too,” Az calls dumbly after him, too late and too slow. Eris doesn’t look back, only lifts his hand with the smallest hint of a wave, and Azriel quickly looks away and returns to the dirt path, hands buried in the pockets of his pants.
Miles and hours later he can still hear the echo of his name from Eris’ lips in his mind when he raises his hand to ring Cassian’s doorbell.
Maybe he’ll walk back later instead of having Cassian drop him off at home after the hike. His knee doesn’t seem that bad anymore.
#modern azris au#old man azriel#has talked to eris once (1 time) and is already down horrendously bad#sjmromanceweek2023#do not mention the picture#i needed something to mark the post#hashtag graphic design is my passion#kantor is about as close as i can get to calling azriel shadowsinger#sexy agegaps? we only know pain. physical and emotional#also rip mr goggles you will be missed
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🍄 & 🖍 for the WIP ask game ❤️
🍄Decriscribe your wip/one of your wips in the format of “___ + ___ =___”
for festivals (and the friends we make along the way) it would be
friend group A + friend group B = a completely unsurprising meetcute in the first aid tent
🖍Post Any sentence from your wip
again, i'll stick to festivals (atfwmatw) and i offer you this (which again is technically 2 sentences)
[06:28] Mactavish: Lads I’ve had a thought
[06:29] Gaz: That’s dangerous but go on.
#pfh answers#festivals and the friends we make along the way#goddamn it that's the name for the tag now
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Ohhh yeah we delving into the sweet treats this fine day of @khoc-week!
These are the kind of fun little ditties that rot my brain day in and day out, so I'm thrilled to get to indulge in some fun, albeit short, writing about it!!
One day I will fully indulge and the world will implode-
Erm. Anyway-
*scribbles out that 'or' and shoddily writes in an 'and' in its place*
Day 3 - Friends (and) Lovers
While they are all super close to each other in one way or another, they each have their own unique relationships they make outside the Heart Hotel dynamic!
I'll still touch on their relationships with one another, but it's also what's outside the clique that counts~
Iris:
Her only big relationship is with Alto, their dynamic being "innocent baby man and grumpy keeper of the brain cell."
Despite that, Iris sees him in a best friend sort of way, the two were super close when they got separated, after all. When they reunite, it's almost if no time had passed, and perhaps Iris learns to... loosen up?
She made teammates and brief friendships, but nothing seemed to come close to their dynamic. Maybe if she had more time, that wouldn't be the case, but the world may never know!
Iris sees Iliana and Reixen as her older sisters, in a way, even though the two of them get on her (and each other's) nerves most of the time. She looks up to them despite their somewhat brainless way of handling things, and it gives her role models she hadn't gotten back in her actual time.
Irene gets the special privelege of being her mother figure! Because in all honesty she doesn't recall having a mom, so Irene is her next best bet. She's too much of a steel wall to admit it, but Irene is her favorite of the others.
♡♡♡
Irene:
Irene up until now really only interacted with castle staff, so her closest relations were really only a coworker dynamic in full. She enjoys tea time with Aeleus and Dilan, at least!
Aside from that, she started collecting adoptions in town, starting with Ienzo and Kairi, and moving on to Lea and Isa, Ventus, even, until finally any random stranger with children who frequently visited was not safe! Specifically Iliana-
She ended up collecting two others in the form of Iris and Reixen! Both reluctant at first but gave up and settled into it like a pair of stray cats. Reixen is far more open about it, but Iris is still touchy. Eventually, she will cave and accept her fate...
More came in after the events of KH3. No one was safe from her love and support, especially after the war-
She doesn't have very many parental rivalries, most of the group's parental figures tend to be in united agreement about the children, but she does have some tension towards Ansem the Wise and Even just based on prior experience. Mickey? It's a work in progress. Donald and Goofy? Her besties.
Eventually, she finds a fine companion in Iliana's uncle, Russell, and mayhaps... the two have a silly romance?
After a post-KH3 meetcute when everyone is hunkered down in recovery, they stay at his shop for a few nights, so the two have time to get to know each other. They mostly talk about their experiences with their little arsonist, but it eventually evolves into more personal territory, something they resolve after a few very simple and cute dates.
Finally, a time where Irene can truly get out of uniform...
Also he's one of the stoic types that she just KNOWS she has to break eventually. She will get this man to smile no matter the cost!
Oh yeah it's all coming together~
They've earned it considering all the stress they go through with their collective adopted charges-
♡♡♡
Iliana:
Iliana out of all of them makes the most connections, but only a few of them stuck because she struggles to allow herself to make friends. Allies, sure, but friends? Naaaah~
She started out in her home world with a friend group in the form of Enya, Harlow, Rinée, and Tobias. They were all super close up until their teen years, sticking by each other through thick and thin! And they involved her little brother at times when her parents were out of town.
Her little brother, Mandorian is, like, THE most important person to her. He's just a little guy who loves frogs and hanging out with his big sis when she's not busy training. The two are so often left unattended that it's not hard to believe they spend most of their time together. Wherever she goes, he's close behind!
But whenever they're not together, she's hanging out with Tobias!
She and Tobias were two peas in a pod, completely inseperable most of the time. Tobias was her (secondary) light, and her brother's personal favorite person aside from her, so you can understand how soul destroying it was when they got murked (by her mortal enemy, she doesn't know this until way later though) in order to kickstart and send her on her hero's journey-
She fell out of touch with the others by the time she left due to the loss bringing out the worst in all of them, but Enya seemed to be the only one who continued to cling to what was left of their friendship...
Anyway-
After suffering a horrible death and was subsequently resurrected, she got pulled into Sora's goofy family along with Alto, which filled in a gap left behind by her other (temporary) loss of her younger brother.
It's like she gained two new dads and two lil' bros all in one day, what a world-
Being parentified at a young age meant she knew how to handle keeping Sora and Alto in line, but that doesn't really stop her from doing her own very stupid stuff when they aren't looking. The hypocrite-
She kind of develops a dad dynamic with King Mickey as well, but it's not terribly definitive considering how absent he is...
Over time, the Guardians of Light end up being her found family DLC add-on, it's very wholesome! She's touchy about it, but like Iris eventually she will cave in to the love and affection.
Irene, Reixen, and Iris are like her chill aunt and weird siblings that irritate her, and that's very cool of them. They were there first, so no one can top that. They're like the only family she had most of the time aside from her uncle, so there's a distinct boundary of trust between them that others can't really match.
Along the way, she also has many unrequited crushes on princesses or side characters of sorts, but the only romance in the timeline she persues (even if she's unaware of it half the time, she's very dense) is with Ienzo! Because a certain porcupine is now part of a polycule with a grape and an electric beetle- It would have never worked out, tbh.
She didn't settle, she just had a sudden and very real realization that she fell for probably THE dorkiest person possible. So many characters to pick, so many pretty princesses, handsome princes, teammates with more screentime, and it had to be a basement dwelling rat (affectionate)...
Considering her prior heartbreak at the loss of her childhood bestie, it does take a while for her to come to terms with the fact that it's okay to move on. She holds on to so much that you may need to pry it from her very warm, still alive hands-
Luckily, the two did know each other well enough since they interacted a bunch when they were kids, she did visit Radiant Garden quite a bit after all, it only made sense they may have some chemistry later down the line. Her grandma would joke about it with Ansem the Wise, but little did she know that it would become very real and very cute actually-
I dunno what it is with her and nerds, but if you can talk her ear off while all the info leaks out of her hearing holes, you have most certainly won her heart. Ienzo also partially fits the bill for her morosexual side, depending on the situation that isn't science related. Like cooking or something. Equal parts smart and dumb, just the way she enjoys them-
They're both t4t brainless nerds and in love, love wins etc etc.
♡♡♡
And there you have it! It's not much but it's honest work-
They all deserve the love and respect they get along their journies, and I'm happy to say that they do find it all eventually!
Enough on that though, we're indulging in angst this next day. See y'all on Day 4!! >:3c
#sham's art#shamsbabs#alto#iris#irene#iliana#russell#rinée#enya#harlow#tobias#reixen#in passing mention#khoc week#khoc week 2023#oc x canon#it's my babbos and i get to pick the things my microwave bakes#i gotta make them smooch their lovers more v v important for my soul#alas i am too shy and burnt out for that...#oh well! :)#kh oc#kingdom hearts oc#khux oc#digital doodles#mandorian
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